


The End of Winter

by WashingWater



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 12:18:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2621414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WashingWater/pseuds/WashingWater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry tries to manage memories of Abigail and late winter blizzards as he and Jo race to track down a killer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End of Winter

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is the first fan fiction that I have ever written. This was originally written to fulfill the "snowflake" prompt for the 30 drabbles challenge on Tumbr.

It was one of those overcast days, common of late winter. The snow was heavy and wet and the snowflakes kept falling in a thick endless swirl. It was another late season blizzard to greet the city.

It was during times like this, when the city's inhabitants would seek refuge inside, that one would swear that the whole world could pause, and listen to the silence of the streets grow just the same as the deepening snow.

As it was every year during days like these, Abe could see as the blanket of melancholy would settle itself upon Henry. He knew that it was inevitable, but it didn't make it any easier to watch. The combination of the time of year and the weather outside easily pushed Henry from the present and left him walking in the memories of the past.

He leaned against the frame of the window holding a cup of coffee that had long since cooled to the touch. His gaze cast to the world moving outside the windows of the antique shop. Truthfully, he no longer saw the snow falling outside, covering the streets to obscurity. Instead, Henry watched as the snow dusted the shoulders of a grey wool coat and danced on golden hair.

It was a day like this, forty years ago, that he experienced the worst deaths of his 235 years.

It was a day like this, forty years ago, when Abigail went missing.

It was no wonder when Jo Martinez walked through the door that morning that Abe practically leapt from his stool to usher her inside.


End file.
